All Chopped Up
by CrimsonClarity
Summary: Not everyone is so supportive of Tyson’s decisions. This is one of them. TyKa, one-shot. Full summary inside.


Title: All Chopped Up

Association: Beyblade

Pairing: Tyson/Kai, TyKa

Full Summary: Tyson has always had a compulsive nature, but this time he's crossed the line. He's got a surprise for everyone; one that only one person won't give him hell for. Prepare yourself: Tyson's getting a haircut.

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**AN: I deeply apologize for putting out this fluffy nonsense for the public to view. I really tried hard to make Tyson and Kai seem in-character, and I would've liked this to be a little longer, but hey, I gave it my best shot, so forgive me if it's not perfect. Please point out any mistakes you may find!!! I'm a perfectionist and I'd rather not have something posted with a typo in it!!! D:**

**That is all. Enjoy, dearies. ^o^**

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I don't remember exactly what it was about that day that gave me such a newly-acquired respect for Tyson. To anyone else, his decision must've seemed illogical. Even to me, it bordered on edgy. But thinking back on it now, it was his boldness that drew me in. His utter confidence that his teammates would openly stand behind all of his decisions, idiotic or not.

This, of course, had not been one of those instances.

It was around 4:30PM, just after I'd gotten my homework done and I'd been planning on going to see Tyson at the Granger dojo. I was eager to beybattle and hadn't felt like waiting until we had our team practice. In truth, I despised team practice, even though _I_ had made it mandatory for the BBA Revolution to have one for at least an hour each evening. 'Maybe I'll get in a quick match before Max and Ray show up,' I thought to myself. 'Too bad Tyson and I can't battle normally like we do in the stadiums. Probably won't get another one of those epic matches with him until the World Tournament starts.'

I showed up at the dojo about ten minutes after leaving my house. Gramps was sitting on the front porch meditating, waving at me with his eyes closed. I was surprised he knew I was there. "T-Bone's in da house if you're lookin' for 'em, K-Man. Might be in da kitchen." I was even more surprised he knew who I was.

"Well, there's a safe bet. Thanks, Mr. Granger." I walked past the old man and through the front door, trying my best not to snicker at his attempt to "keep himself young". I guess I had just enough respect for the man to grant him that much.

"Hey, Tyson, you in here? I don't hear you stuffing your face." I glanced around irritated, waiting to hear his cherubic voice say, "Already did, Kai!" but heard nothing in response. Instinct told me to either check the backyard or his bedroom, the latter of which seemed less likely. Still, something drew me up the stairs toward his room. As I approached the top of the stairwell, I could hear soft moaning sounds emitting from the other side of Tyson's door. It was something like sobbing, but maybe it was just him blowing his nose quietly.

Yeah, right...

I knocked a couple of times. "Tyson, you in there? C'mon, get your lazy ass out of bed and let's beybattle already. Max and Ray aren't here yet, but----"

"----They're not coming today." Tyson's voice was strained and I could tell that he had in fact been crying, at least to some extent. I hadn't a clue why. He'd always been a pretty emotional person, which was something I couldn't always handle. It was times like this when I felt like running away from him; one of those instances where I knew my words would only hurt more than help. Something was different this time though. I think it was the moment I put my hand on the doorknob to let myself in. I could feel his hand on the opposite side; hear his breath as he waited to see what I would do. His energy surged through the metal connecting us and I felt a half-hearted sigh catch in my throat. I wanted to cough, but yet I wanted to scream, too. Here I was, so close I could sense him, damn near close enough to touch 'em, and still I couldn't say the words I'd been suppressing for three years.

I let myself in.

Tyson greeted me with four things, all of which I expected: a crooked smile, puffy red eyes, a hug and...wait a minute.

...a haircut?

_'Well, guess I wasn't expecting that...where the hell did all of his hair go?' _I was a little thrown off, of course, but didn't say a word as he wrapped me in his arms and put his head on my chest. I felt his watery cheeks burrow into my shirt, and I unconsciously stuck my hand on top of his head, a reassuring gesture of sorts. For the first time in months, he was standing there with his infamous cap off. I could see his choppy locks, which I had always admired from afar when they were longer. It was weird, shoving my fingers through his hair and knowing it wasn't quite like I imagined. I was still satisfied, if not overjoyed in a sense. That was...nice. Still, I had an image to keep.

"Get off of me, you moron." I shoved Tyson away from me, pushing only slightly as not to upset him too much. He anticipated my action and my words.

That was something he could always do, I think. Pretty sure I'll never get used to it, either.

"Sorry." Tyson backed away and stared at the floor before looking at me. "I didn't mean to overreact."

"It's alright." I sat on his bed and placed a hand next to me on the covers. "Take a seat." He silently obliged, which was odd but alright I guess. "So, you got a haircut?"

"...it wasn't supposed to turn out like this, really, but...I dunno, I think it looks okay. Too bad everyone else doesn't think so." I took my first full-frontal look at Tyson and realized exactly why his new haircut had surprised me so much. He'd taken on that emo look, bangs swept in the face and all. The tips of his naturally blue bangs were now dyed a rich shade of ebony, which I found to be rather attractive. The rest of his hair was much shorter than before, with only a very stubby blue ponytail resting on his upper back.

"It looks cool. I like it." I gave him my most sincere glance and toyed with the feathery bangs in his eyes. "But why the change?"

"I just wanted to do something different, okay?! I don't see why it's such a big frickin' deal to everyone." He pouted.

"Aww, did wittle Ty get picked on today at school?"

"Actually, asshole, I did. Even Max and Ray made fun of it! They were all there like, 'Dude, you gonna start cuttin' your wrists or somethin'?' and 'That's so not you, Tyson.' I wish people knew how to keep comments like that to themselves!"

"Hn, welcome to my world." I flopped down on the small twin-sized mattress. "I don't think it looks bad at all. And anyway, what you decide to do with yourself, no matter what you're doing, is strictly your business. Tell Max and Ray to stick their comments where the sun don't shine."

"I did! That's why they're not showing up to practice tonight. I told them I'm free to do whatever I want with my hair and they still gave me shit. I'm not going emo, for heaven's sake!"

"Did _I_ say you were?" I eyed Tyson carefully from my relaxed position and grinned. He glared for only a second and then returned the smile.

"No, you didn't. Not like you'd say that anyway." He replied sheepishly.

"You're right; I wouldn't. I'm not the judgmental type." I placed my hands behind my head and closed my eyes. "When people always look at you like you're the strange one, it's pretty typical to look at everyone else like they're normal."

A moment of silence. I waited for his curiosity to press forward.

"...is that how you look at yourself, Kai? Do _you_ think you're strange?"

"No," I sat up on the mattress and looked Tyson directly in eyes. I lost my place in a storm of chocolaty brown and mixed emotions. "And deep down, I don't really think you are, either."

I went for it.

I squeezed my eyes shut and went directly for his lips. I don't know what came over me, what provoked me to go for it after years of cursing myself mentally and telling myself Tyson wasn't the same way.

I guess there was never really anything to be afraid of.

His lips moved against mine in an unexpected manner and our tongues clashed like fire and ice. Hands were all over one another like they could literally drink flesh if they tried, and after a few minutes like this, it was over. Tyson and I parted to steal some much-needed oxygen from the air.

"Wow, Kai....," It was all he could say at first. We had been so in the moment that he was still gasping a little, but I was patient. After all, I'd been waiting years for this; what was a few seconds in silence worth to me? "You really must not think I'm strange now, do you?"

"Way to kill a good moment, loser." I laughed, avoiding his question, and flicked his bangs, accidently hitting a slab of his forehead in the process. I was smiling like I hadn't smiled since childhood.

"Hey, I'm just sayin'! Where the hell did all this come from?" He was grinning at me with that dorky-ass smile that I'd always pretended to hate.

"Just let it go, Tyson." I collapsed back on his bed. We'd been sitting up the whole time we'd made out, surprisingly, but now it seemed okay after that to just lie there and hope he did the same.

I would've been so pissed if he hadn't.

He kinda just huddled up next to me in his crappy little twin-size bed and I could feel his hand searching for mine. He was staring at the ceiling for a moment, but came back down to Earth and turned toward me. Tyson's new bangs were all sorts of in his eyes, and it gave me a conflicted feeling.

"Just so you know," I began, "I really don't think the new cut is totally you....But I _do_ think it's flattering. I just wish I could see your eyes." I pushed the bangs back off his forehead and smirked, but Tyson wasn't really buying into my facial façade that day. Instead of smirking back, he gave me this sort-of adoring look.

"But it doesn't look bad, does it?" His voice pleaded with me to say no.

Like I was really going to say anything else, even if I'd thought it.

"Nope, completely normal."

"Kai...."

"Hm?" I was unconsciously still running my fingers through his hair. I think it's a habit of mine.

"What exactly _is_ normal?"

I stared hard at him for a brief second and then turned my attention toward the ceiling. "Normal is a definition of whatever you find to be familiar in life. It's different for everyone."

"Did you just pull that out of your rear or look it up at some point?" The smirk was there this time; I could see it clearly through my peripherals.

"I wouldn't say it came out of my rear exactly, but likely somewhere close to there." I felt a rise in my chest and let a small chuckle escape my lips.

"Would you say...that you and I are normal?"

I turned on my side and looked deeply into his eyes again, searching for answers. "Not by ourselves, we're not. But like this," I ran a hand up his hip and torso until it rested on the side of his stomach comfortably. "We're not really any different from anyone else."

"...Is that a good thing?"

"Well, what do you think? Does all this seem kinda normal to _you_?" I gave him the most earnest look I could muster.

"Well, not yet exactly," Tyson moved his face a little closer to my own and finally found the hand he'd been searching for. "....But I definitely think I could get used to it."

FIN


End file.
